


Scent and Memory

by poeta_n_sonhador



Category: True Detective
Genre: 2010s recall, 2012, Gen, M/M, Short, ep08
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:20:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22314706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poeta_n_sonhador/pseuds/poeta_n_sonhador
Summary: Inspired by Proust Phenomenon, the effect of reminding memory through particular scent.
Relationships: Rustin "Rust" Cohle & Martin "Marty" Hart, Rustin "Rust" Cohle/Martin "Marty" Hart
Comments: 6
Kudos: 7





	Scent and Memory

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hieroglyphics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hieroglyphics/gifts).



_After resign, once I went to the bar, and there was this familiar smell. It was like cigarette and was quite awful. I thought, who the hell is smoking a piece of shit._

_And then I remembered. Oh._

_It was you._

Marty doesn't know anything about “psychosphere's smell” that once his former partner told. He said it tasted like “aluminum, ash” but who would dip their fingers into something like ash from cigarettes and touch it on the tip of their tongue? Even kids don't give it a try. But Marty thought - later when he looked back on that day lying on the hospital bed - as soon as he stepped over the bar’s threshold and breathed in, he had at least a vague idea of what Rust was saying.

The scent, once padded in his car (both driver's and passenger's seats) spilled into his mind somewhere he didn't know, touching a name he never want to think of until then. The back of his neck became stiff and a tight sense of taste wrung his tongue right away. His stomach twisted for a moment.

Camel Blue. The white, small rectangular box. Those blue logos with camels that walk slowly through the desert. Half-closed eyes, low voice. Such images came before his eyes all at once. His eyes suddenly stung like smoke.

That would be similar to “psychosphere's smell”, or something that's close to it. Something very bitter. Every single fucking thing that unfortunately reminds him of the weary face.

Such a cruel imprint you left, isn't it.

_Do you believe in ghost?_

He even thought he heard that voice.

Marty hesitantly sit down at the counter. The bartender turned his head to him. He ordered martini. There were few people in the bar. Marty glanced those strange fellows and sipped his drink slowly. _You're so overreactting_ , he told himself. _It's just a smell... that's gonna be forgotten soon._ He stared down at the bottom of the glass. The scent flew around the place, and Marty felt itchy behind his neck.

He sit there for a while.

_Maybe I,_

He begins to talk slowly, like he goes into the bar at that time again, staring at his former partner in front of his eyes.

_I've waited, for you, Rust. There._

_Funnily enough._

Rust just breathes with his eyes closed, with the needles in his arm. Marty drinks his water through the straw, swallowing the rest of his words.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a short version of original ideas I'm preparing, with a bit of plot twisting.  
> Forgive me poor English. ;-;  
> Thank you so much for giving me inspiration to write, hieroglyphics! Hope you like it. <3


End file.
